


Mothered by Darkness

by TeaRoses



Category: Carmilla - J. Sheridan Le Fanu
Genre: Bloodplay, F/F, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-17
Updated: 2019-12-17
Packaged: 2021-02-25 04:53:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21830296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeaRoses/pseuds/TeaRoses
Summary: Laura recovers from a long illness with memories of Carmilla, but everyone tells her Carmilla was only a dream.  One night, she finds out the truth.
Relationships: Carmilla | Mircalla Countess Karnstein/Laura
Comments: 3
Kudos: 38
Collections: Yuletide 2019





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [chicleeblair](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chicleeblair/gifts).



I am dying. In my family there are those who claim they do not know death, and this was an open secret among even relation as distant as we were, but I never wished to join them. I married as most women do and gave birth to my precious child. I fed her myself, refusing a wet nurse. Not because of the difficulty of getting a nurse to our remote inhabitancy, but because even before she was born I did not think I could bear to see her at another’s breast. 

But now she is being raised on goats’ milk, given by the servants, because my illness has progressed to where I can barely stir. And my poor child, not even yet able to speak, has been taken from her mother and will now lose her entirely. For despite the words of my husband and the servants I know I have a few more days at most to live.

And now I beg and plead that the secrets of my family be revealed to me, that I might somehow raise and guide her, but it is much too late. Those who knew those ways hide themselves now, lest they be destroyed. I know if I were a virtuous person I would wish for their destruction rather than wanting to join them but no one can judge me who has not felt the fear of death.

My family did not worship as others did, though we held that as a closely guarded secret. I was never baptized, though I told everyone otherwise. I never learned scripture as a child. I remember only the strange songs my grandmother used to sing me to sleep, that she learned from her faraway relatives.

Oh ancient ones, listen! Oh spirits of the woods and waters, heed me! Venerable sorcerers, I call upon you. Let my daughter be protected by all your magic. If I cannot be with her, let her comfort come from those who have dwelled here before time. The spirits of the night shall shield her, and no one will raise their hand to her. If I cannot embrace her, let her know the embrace of loving shadows. If I cannot be her mother, let her be mothered by the darkness. Let this be, whatever is the price that must be paid.


	2. Chapter 2

When I was close to being a woman, I came very near to death. I lay in bed for weeks, seized with pain, refusing all nourishment. My memory of the time is hazy due to the severity of my illness. My father tells me now that the doctors had despaired of me and had no idea what disease was causing me such pain and weakness. I only vaguely remember my father’s visits and the tears he shed on my behalf. The servants came and went and I barely heeded them. At one point the room turned dark, and I truly believed I was drawing my last breaths, but somehow I was spared and began to improve.

While I was ill I had wild fancies and nightmares that seemed very real to me. I remembered a girl called Carmilla, who I thought had visited me just before my sickness, and a strange story of blood and graves and death. My father dismissed all this and discouraged me from speaking about it. He said there was no such person as Carmilla, that a girl had visited me but that was not her name and she was alive and well. Of blood and graves he would not speak at all, saying only that such horrors must indeed convince me that what I was speaking of was not real. When I uttered once the word “vampire,” he shook his head and said perhaps I had read too many novels during my convalescence, that made me think and dream such foolish things.

At times in the night I could see that a very beautiful girl stood before me, holding a red cup and saying “Come, Laura, and drink.” Other times I thought great dark birds and huge black dogs were in my room, but rather than fearing them I felt safe with them. Such strange dreams helped me continue to believe that Carmilla was some kind of fantasy herself, and not real, and soon the details of my time with her faded until I could not even remember her voice or her face and I fully believed that my father was right. None of the servants or my tutors ever spoke of Carmilla either, telling me that my visitor had been a girl named Maria who was back in England where she had been born. I thought perhaps I did not remember Maria because of the disorder of my brain during my illness, though I did notice that I never had a letter from her.

At this time I had finally fully recovered and father gently suggested that I was old enough to have no more need of tutors. I knew that he was right, but begged him to please allow Madame to stay for a time, to help guide me in the proper ways of a young lady, as I had no female relatives. He saw the wisdom of this and acquiesced. 

Madame’s first priority was to teach me to dance. I thought this very silly, as I had no balls to attend, but she taught me a passable waltz, even if I was a bit awkward. Since this was not a house with many servants, Madame also taught me some cookery and other skills pertaining to a household which were more to my taste.

One evening at dinner, as I looked at the uneaten food on my plate, my father spoke of something I had known was inevitable.

“It is time that we thought of bringing you out in society,” he said.

"Why must we?" I asked.

“You will never meet a gentleman to marry at this rate,” he replied.

“But I do not want to marry! I want to stay with you,” I insisted. This was not simply a maiden’s modesty. I had never had a thought of marrying anyone.

My father smiled. “I am sure that when you are meeting more eligible young men you will soon feel differently.”

He went on to tell me that Count Carlsfeld was planning a ball. His home was much too far away for us to go only for the night, but the Count had invited us to spend a few days with him so that we would be able to attend.

Despite my cynicism about dancing and marriage, a ball at the Count’s residence did not sound unpleasant to me at all. Madame and I found one of my mother’s old gowns and altered it to fit me and to make it look a bit more stylish. It was made of silk and a beautiful deep burgundy in color. Perhaps it was not a typical dress for a girl’s first ball but I loved it. I asked Papa if Madame could travel to the Count’s ball along with us, but she insisted that it was not proper, and claimed that she was too ill to travel in any case.

The night of the ball the Count sent one of his servants to my room to help me put on my gown, a luxury I had never had before, and I went downstairs to the ballroom. It was a huge room, gaily decorated with flowers and bunting, and at one end musicians were preparing to play. I had not expected it to be so crowded - I could barely move without treading on someone’s toes, though there was enough space for the dancing.

The men were in formal evening dress, making them all look rather alike and rather somber, and the ladies were in spectacular gowns. They made up for the men’s lack of color by being rich in every hue. There were even a few made out of gold tissue. I was not envious of these, however. I saw no one wearing the exact same shade of burgundy that I had, and I was happy to be wearing my mother’s gown. Their jewelry was also spectacular, with many women wearing diamonds at their necks. I had inherited a few very modest pieces from my mother, but I did not choose to wear them that night.

I had worried that I might be overlooked for the dancing, as I knew no one there but my father and the Count. After about half an hour the Count came up to us with a young man by his side that looked familiar to me though I could not remember his name.

“I present to you Marcellus. He would like to beg the honor of this dance. Marcellus, please meet Laura.” The band struck up a waltz, so I let Marcellus lead me to the floor. He still looked familiar to me but I definitely knew no one by that name.

Marcellus took my hand to lead me in the dance and it is difficult to describe what happened then. I felt rush of feeling. I would almost say “passion.” I had a great need to be close to this man whom I did not even know. I was trembling so much I was afraid I would not be able to dance, but I somehow managed to remember the steps.

I looked into Marcellus’s dark eyes and wondered if he felt anything like I was feeling. 

He gave me a small smile. “Do you see any secrets?” he asked.

“Excuse me?” I replied.

“You are staring so deeply into my eyes I was certain you saw some secret hiding there.”

“N-no,” I stammered. I am just…” I had no idea how to explain myself.

“I hope this is not too forward, but I feel as if we have known each other for a long time,” Marcellus continued.

“I feel that too,” I said hesitantly. “Yet we had never met before tonight.”

“Perhaps we have not,” he said, “but either way I am happy to meet you now, as you are the most beautiful woman in the room.”

I knew such flattery was standard at balls so I did not take what he said very seriously. “I can see any number of women more beautiful than I on the dance floor alone,” I replied.

At that Marcellus looked grave. He looked deeply into my eyes and said. “I am completely serious. You outshine them all, and I wish this dance would never end.”

I also wished that, as I still felt drawn to him. Was this what books meant when they spoke of “falling in love?” Even in books people generally needed more than one dance, but I knew how I felt and what I wanted. I had never before understood why girls my age, not that I knew many, could act so silly about young men. Now I couldn’t help wondering whether Marcellus could somehow become my suitor.

“If I could,” he said, smiling again, “I would kiss you right here. But that would be most improper, would it not?”

I thought to myself that the situation was already improper and I should end the waltz and cease to speak with him, but I was no more capable of doing that than I was of jumping over the moon.

“I need to speak with you,” Marcellus said, “of things that cannot be spoken of here. Will you meet me in the back garden at midnight?”

My father had warned me about young men who spoke in such a way, but all I did was nod. I knew already I would not be able to keep myself from meeting him. The combination of curiosity and this feeling of attraction were too much.

My father was not quite so old-fashioned as to demand I be chaperoned at every moment, so I slipped out of the ballroom just before midnight. Many couples were already walking in the back gardens and no one noticed me. I could not see Marcellus anywhere. At the very back, where a hedge divided the garden from the lane behind it, there were two figures but both wore gowns. They were obviously a young woman and an older one who wore a turban and was perhaps the other woman’s mother.

Something told me to approach them and as I got closer I could see that the girl had a strong resemblance to Marcellus. A sister? Then she smiled, and when I saw the points of her teeth, the stories my father had denied came rushing back to me. She must have been able to tell from my face that I knew, because she said, “Yes, it is your Carmilla. And this is my mother of the spirit, Madame Gryphon.”

The other woman nodded regally. “We have met before.”

“But Carmilla, my father said…”

“I know what your father said,” Carmilla replied. “Don’t forget, dear Laura, that I am always watching over you. He told you I did not exist, and it gave me any number of tears.”

“And Marcellus?” I asked, though of course I already realized the truth.

“Yes, that was I as well. Marcilla, the sound is enough alike that no one noticed.”

“But you so strongly resembled a young man!” Looking at her figure in the ballgown she wore now, it was obviously impossible that she had simply disguised herself as a male. 

“Do you remember,” she asked, “that I am not an ordinary girl?”

Madame Gryphon laughed out loud. “Do you not believe in magic?” she asked me.

I did not know. I should have been terrified, but knowing that Marcellus was my lost Carmilla only made me want even more to be close to her.

“I remember more now, but how can this be? Before I became ill I remember than telling me that you were… undead. And that you had been destroyed.”

“You did not see my destruction with your own eyes, however, and should not have trusted them. They lied, because they could not find my real grave, and could not bear to think they had let me live.”

“But you are a vampire,” I said. Some of the stories were still mixed up in my mind but I was certain of that now.

“Yes, I am, dear Laura, as are you.”

I was dumbfounded. “Me?” I asked. “That’s impossible.”

“Do you remember the time we kissed in the wheat field?”

I did remember. We had been hiding there from Madame, as if we had been small children. Carmilla had been embracing me, just as one girl to another, but when she lifted her head her mouth was very close to mine, and I kissed her. This was also not unusual between us but this time she had opened her mouth and moved her tongue against mine, making it unmistakably into a lover’s kiss. I knew it was wrong but I had allowed her this liberty and even pulled her close against me. I remembered now how I had felt in the wheat field, how my heart pounded and my hands shook, how I had never felt like that again until an hour ago when I first saw “Marcellus.” 

“You kissed my neck. And I felt a pain. And then Madame called us,” I said slowly.

“That was when it began.” This was Madame Gryphon speaking.

“But I don’t feel any different!” I insisted.

“It can be a slow change. Have you not noticed that lately food does not seem as appetizing to you as before?” Carmilla asked.

That was true, but still I shook my head.

“And have you not a sharp tooth, now?” she went on.

I did. I had told myself that perhaps my tooth had been chipped or broken somehow.

“And you were ill, for a long time,” said Madame Gryphon.

I shook my head. “It is impossible. I would never drink blood!” I said.

“You already have,” said Carmilla.

“I have no idea what you mean,” I replied.

Carmilly stroked my hair lovingly. “Isn’t there anyone around you who has become ill lately?”

I opened my mouth in shock. “Madame. But if I had been taking her blood I would know!”

“You did it your sleep. Your mind tricked you, so that you did not remember, but dearest Laura, you know what you are.”

I began to cry, and Carmilla gathered me into her arms. “Is it so terrible to be what I am, if we can be together?” she asked.

With her this close to me it did not seem terrible at all. She kissed my face several times as she held me, and I realized how much I had missed her. Her love had always overwhelmed me, even frightened me, yet I was not sure I could bear to leave her side.

“Come with us,” Mrs Gryphon said. “I shall not harm you. I am your mother of the spirit, just as I am Carmilla’s. Come, just for a few hours, and we will show you wonders.”

I knew my father would be frantic with worry. But he had lied to me about Carmilla twice, once to say that she had been destroyed and once to say that she had never existed at all, and I was able to harden my heart against him. I let Madame Gryphon help me into the carriage.

The strange driver took us through the dark lane and I sat with Carmilla, holding her hand, both terrified and exultant. Eventually the carriage stopped at a cottage. 

“I have a surprise for you,” said Carmilla. I looked at her, puzzled. 

“It is something I know you want,” she said, smiling and showing me again her sharp teeth. She took me through the door of the cottage, through a nearly empty parlor to a bedroom in the back. On a bed lay a girl about my age, blonde and pale, wearing only a nightgown. I could see that she was breathing, but very slowly. I backed away, not wanting to admit that I knew exactly what Carmilla was offering me.

I watched as Carmilla bent and slowly, almost delicately ran her teeth over the girl’s neck. Blood welled up and Carmilla licked it up eagerly, then began to suck. When she was finished, she looked up at me, blood around her mouth, and motioned for me to take her place. The girl’s breathing was barely visible now and I knew it would be the end of her, but I felt a terrible hunger when I saw the blood on her white neck, I leaned down and licked, tentatively at first, then ferociously, as if I had been starving. I said a prayer for her soul, but oh, her blood was sweet.

When we were finished we left the girl’s empty husk in the cottage. Madame Gryphon came to us and led us to a clearing in the woods, saying that magic would bring the girl’s body back to her own bed.

“Now I am supposed to believe in magic?” I asked.

Madame Gryphon only smiled. “Your mother certainly did believe in it.”

“You knew my mother?” I asked. “I know she was related to the Karnsteins somehow.”

“I never had the pleasure of meeting your mother, but even the distant relatives of the Karnsteins knew secrets that they passed on to their descendants. Your mother might have passed them on someday to you, if she had not died.”

“But she did die,” I said, wondering if I should trust even that.

Mrs Gryphon nodded solemnly. “She did, but as she lay dying she called upon her secret heritage to protect you. We have been watching over you ever since, and I have loved you like a daughter.”

I thought to myself that it must be a strange and awful love indeed to come from such a person, but I was strange and awful now too so it only seemed fitting.

“Carmilla visited you once when you were a child,” she said.

“I remember that,” I said. “I thought for so long that it was a dream.”

“When you were grown, Carmilla grew to love you too, in a different way. She begged me to help her to meet you. I asked her if she would kill you with her love, but she had another plan - to grant you the inheritance of the Karnsteins.”

“And that was what she did, in the wheat field,” I said. “She did not even ask.”

“Would you have agreed?” Madame Gryphon asked.

“Of course not. And I must go back to my father now,” I said, trying to sound determined. But it was a weak effort.

Madame Gryphon reached for my hand and held it. “Do you really think you can ever go back to your father now, knowing what you do about yourself?”

I wept again, but I realized that she was right. I could not take my father’s blood, or I might kill him. And I could not marry a nice young man and have a family as he wanted, both because I was a vampire now and because all I wanted was Carmilla. 

Madame Gryphon waved her hand, and I heard a stirring in the trees. I could see strange figures approaching through the woods. They were the size of children, but looked like old men with pale skin and strange black clothing. I noticed they were carrying musical instruments, and I became extremely confused.

“Kobolds,” said Madame Gryphon. “And far better musicians than the ones at the ball.”

“Who are you?" I asked in awe.

"Leama Gryfon," she said, spelling out her name for me. "Though you may have heard of me under another name."

"What name?" I asked.

"There are those who have called me Morgan le Fay."

I stared at her in shock, as the musicians struck up a tune. Carmilla approached and held her arms out to me. "Dance with me again," she said.

She looked so much more beautiful than "Marcellus" had. I stepped forward and let her waltz with me to the music of the strange small musicians. The darkness and shadows of the woods surrounded me, but I was not afraid at all. The air smelled of spices and promise. As we danced, Carmilla gave me a long lover's kiss. "You are mine now," she said. I only nodded and kissed her again, blood in both our mouths. All I wanted was for her to pull me closer and possess me truly. I realized that this would be the rest of my life, and felt only joy. I had no need of a father, or a husband, but only of my Carmilla.


End file.
